Just Doing What I Do
by Tulusu
Summary: For two people who have so much in common, it's amazing that they never understood each other in the first place .. Loneliness, pity .. that's not enough to love someone. So .. what IS?


All rights and characters are property of .. whoever owns Star Trek now .. Upn? No clue.  
  
I don't know much about dying, really, but I've been unconscious enough for fifteen people. Most of the accidents happened when I was a child. some minor weapon injuries, and plenty of shots from a stun gun. When your down, you dream. It's a lot like ordinary dreaming, but you forget who you are. You don't remember anything, so that you will follow any basic plot line, because you don't know things are suppose to be .. different.  
  
My father always sang an American lullaby, Row Row Row your boat. He liked the Matrix, too. He was a quantum mechanic, and my mother loved him for every weird quark he had. "The odd thing is about life, is that the only solution to having doubtful faith, is to keep on doing your best. So really, even if we are all are but a dream, then we have to keep on swimming." He would say.  
  
That's something Tarquin never understood. It made me pity him.  
  
People don't understand my pitying, usually. He manipulates people through their own mind. I don't think any one of those "Company" ever really taught him much about having Company. If you only hand out with lonely people, as a lonely person, of course your never going to be happy with normal people! What was he thinking?! That's why I don't like chumming up with Malcolm. That is not to say there is much chumming up to do. We sit together, look into space, and talk about the ship.  
  
The more I learnt about the reptilians, the more I noticed how anti- feminist their kind is raised to be. They might as well be twenty-first century Muslims. Really, Tarquin was a marvel of his kind. He was always a gentleman, if he had time to think of it, and was very soft talking and warm. Still is, I hear. Captain told me, in apologizing unnecessarily after my escape, " I should never have trusted him. He seemed overly nice. .. Overly kind. ... You didn't use your phase pistol, did you? .. Pity? .. Ensign!"  
  
Pitying someone is not enough to marry them. Loneliness is not enough. There has to be .. I don't know! Chemistry? Minor quarks? Romance ..? He always cheated in Romance. He always did! He's just read my mind, and tell me something nice that he KNEW for a fact would hit home. Lucky for me, it never did. I only realized what I know now; to pity him.  
  
Pitying was not enough for him either. He told me not to. I tried my hardest, yet here I am today ..  
  
Even though he could read my mind and control it, he still grew surprised with me. That I left, that I finished that book in a day, that I couldn't stand his illusions, that I couldn't stand his walk- that I found a way to come back .. That I didn't ever fall into his sexual situational bear traps- In the end, even he was surprised. So perhaps he underestimated me, or maybe, I underestimate myself. Either way, there are ways to come through to him. To never be a puppet.  
  
When he kissed me, a LONG time ago, he kissed my sins too. It was as if he saw every bad thing I've ever done, every little quark, (I snore, Im an insomniac, I see dead people, I can't do math, Im snappy, Im depressive .. the list goes on!) - he didn't mind. He still wanted me to be with him. A part of me wanted to be with him. So, the moment the war ended, I asked permission to see what happened to Tarquin. It was horrible! They had him chained, drugged, hooked up to machines, and no one for company. Everything was artificial.  
  
I felt a voice inside my head, watched pictures, " I have not forgotten." The perfect host greeted me. He was awake, perfectly him, but decently clothed, unlike his sleeping form. I walked over to the form lying on a narrow bed, and watched the perfect host stand behind me.  
  
" The ant inside your mind, am I?"  
  
I only wait.  
  
" You cease to surprise me."  
  
The host bends over, pointing at the form lying in polka-dot sheets.  
  
" That, would be .. an idiot. I apologize. .. And now I apologize for apologizing, and .. " He hesitated, " You often make references towards others culture in your work- while translating. You have to make observations, and sometimes relate things between you. .. You then, must understand, that when I . use my abilities, I find relations between us both, so that I can translate my thoughts into you. We are a like." He nods, agreeing with his choice of words.  
  
He's silent.  
  
" Im growing confused, Sir. Do you want me to speak?"  
  
" You want to speak."  
  
I flush slightly, and nod, " Well .. yes."  
  
" And call me Sir?" He raises an amused eyebrow. I look away, at the sleeping man.  
  
" I wish to call you whatever you want me to call you."  
  
" Then .. you'll choose yourself. Go ahead, speak, then."  
  
" I want to know what to do, in order to help you."  
  
He looks at himself briefly, and then at me directly, from the other side of the bed, " That is up to the consul. I am very .. proud (?) to say, that Jonathan Archer has made a seat for himself."  
  
" Yes." I nod.  
  
" Am I allowed an observation?" He tilts his head slowly on one side. I nod, and he continues, " Humans, females perticularly, I have grown to find .. confusing unto themselves."  
  
" Sorry?" I almost laugh, but Im a liberal in outer space.  
  
" Your thoughts, I meant. I try not to stereo type, just so you can keep that in mind."  
  
" Many movies on Earth feature that expression, actually. I suppose it's true." I smile.  
  
He sighs, " A more personal observation, then?" I nod, and he continues again, " You, for instance, wish to tell me why you are here. You hesitate this. You want me to touch you another, and distance yet another. A thousand possibilities, and counting."  
  
" You can rely heavily, if your so confused, on what I actually do. That's how humans live with each other."  
  
" Yes .."  
  
I look down, " I guess you know why Im here then. I know too. It's not like I thought I'd have time to 'See how things went' before I told you."  
  
" If I touched you-"  
  
" If you did-"  
  
" Then you'd-?"  
  
" I'd probably not-"  
  
" And then-?"  
  
" Yes!" I manage. He falls silent. " I would." We both nod spontanously. After a long pause, I say, " Would .."  
  
" I wouldn't mind, to say the most polite." He clamps his mouth shut, an apologizing look in his eyes. He waits ..  
  
" Well, would you mind if I looked after you here?"  
  
" No!"  
  
I wait now, uncertain for the first time what he means.  
  
He laughs, until the noise is filling my head, " Language. You are a scholar in the subject, talented- yet it fails me and you now .. how trivial. I would like, that very much, Miss Sato."  
  
Taking a seat in the visitors chair, which I know has been empty for a very long time, he says later, quietly, " .. Knew that'd happen." 


End file.
